Zombie Mary's eyes literally glaze over as she smells the blood of serious problems over at the Johnsons' apartment. Her wrist goes limp and she nearly drops her trowel of doom. Meanwhile, Toby Cameron, the ever present voice of reason ("I think I'll retile the kitchen floor tomorrow,") subtly tries to suggest that the Johnsons might be best off solving their own problems. Oh, Toby, you dear little dimwitted fool. Don't you see Mary's trowel? She's not going to stop until the Johnsons are planted snugly in her garden bed of victims.
May I just add a note on how much I enjoy everyone's comments and emails? Each day we get about 300 visitors here at Mary Worth and Me. I know those aren't staggering numbers for the Interwebs, but when you consider the subject matter, I think it's pretty darn amazing. I appreciate that people stick with the Family Friendly format of this blog, and that many of you have actually signed up to become citizens of Santa Royale by following this blog (if you haven't joined, you're still invited. You wouldn't want to turn me down, would you?). Also, a reminder to newcomers: Don't forget to hold your cursor over the images for your free secret message from the Santa Royale Condo Board.
I hope everyone is having a beautiful spring. Now, I'm off to Opening Day with my son to watch the World Champion Philadelphia Phillies play a baseball game with my beloved Washington Nationals.
Today's Full Strip
Oh, who is this mysterious blond interloper, trying to usurp Mary Worth's role as chief meddler in Bonnie Johnson's life? Don't even try, lady. Mary Worth has already got this situation well under control.
Can you really blame Uncle Joe for recycling his art when the dialog is largely recycled as well. 
I know what Ernie means. My credit card has the worst interest rate. But all the Johnsons need to do is call Chaste Bank and ask for a lower rate. Problem solved. On to the next story.
Oh, Mary Worth, please tell us how to avoid the inevitable Final Parting. After all, you've known so many couples. Is it a secret mystical tea brewed from the blossoms of your magical morning glories? You are a woman driven, driven to defeat death, to boldly bypass the Final Parting. The dark arts may intimidate some, but not Mary Worth, nor her evil pruning shears.
I'm sure they will open up to you, Mary, just as soon as you and Toby are through establishing the facts:
Zombie Mary's eyes literally glaze over as she smells the blood of serious problems over at the Johnsons' apartment. Her wrist goes limp and she nearly drops her trowel of doom. Meanwhile, Toby Cameron, the ever present voice of reason ("I think I'll retile the kitchen floor tomorrow,") subtly tries to suggest that the Johnsons might be best off solving their own problems. Oh, Toby, you dear little dimwitted fool. Don't you see Mary's trowel? She's not going to stop until the Johnsons are planted snugly in her garden bed of victims.
Well, as I said yesterday, this is the part where Toby and Mary drink coffee. But it isn't that Mary Worth stories follow a predictable formula, it's more that these characters are so well developed, and their relationship is so defined, and we are so stupid, that we need Mary to explain everything to Toby so we can know what happened while we were busy reading Mary Worth this week.
Run, Bonnie? Bonnie Johnson?! Run and never look back. I don't care if I never learn why you seem so glum. It's a sacrifice I'm willing to make to save you from the evil clutch of Mary Worth. But, alas, we both know that it is too late. After Mary drinks some coffee with her evil henchwoman Toby and talks about her observations, Bonnie? Bonnie Johnson? is going to come knocking and all will be lost.
As long as I live, I will never forget the look of wretched horror in Bonnie? Bonnie Johnson?'s eyes as she realizes her fate.
There's nothing like First Contact. The feeling of anticipation that has been lingering for several days as Mary Worth set her sights on Bonnie? Bonnie Johnson? is finally consummated with the The Touch. Now Bonnie? Bonnie Johnson? is hers and hers alone, a submissive puppet in Mary's hand. I'm going to enjoy this. I'm going to enjoy it very much.